


Midnight Secrets

by spyrosapyro



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, snarry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-11
Updated: 2011-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:43:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyrosapyro/pseuds/spyrosapyro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron decides to find out where Harry has been sneaking off to every night. One shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Ron lay awake in his bed, listening. He was waiting for what he knew would come, sooner or later. He tried to even his breathing out, looking at the alarm clock glowing beside his four-poster. 2:57. He faked a snore or two, trying to stay awake.

It came, finally, at 3:04. He heard the subdued wrinkle of the sheets on the bed next to him, followed by the soft thump of socked feet hitting the cold floor of the dormitory. He listened to the other boys sleeping, their breaths slow and even, Neville gently snoring from somewhere on his right. The figure next to his stumbled, stubbing a toe against the night table, and a soft curse escaped the boy's lips. Ron shifted slightly; feigning a slight disturbance to the noise, and he heard a cessation in the motions to his left. As he sounded another snore, the movements picked up again, hushed but hurried. He heard the soft thumping of cautious footsteps pad over to the door, and the slight creak of the hinges as it opened. After the small _click_ of the door returning to its place in its frame, he jumped out of bed, silently following. He tip-toed down the spiral staircase, following the faint glow now emanating from the boy's wand, now just out of his sight on the stairs. He stopped at the foot, holding his breath and leaning marginally into the common room.

Harry's back was to him as he advanced to the Portrait hole, leaning into the door as he threw his Invisibility Cloak around his shoulders.

Cursing, he trudged back up to his bed, resigned to waiting until Harry got back, as he had for the past three weeks. He had forgotten about the Invisibility Cloak. Lying in bed, he wondered how he would ever figure out where Harry was going now. He had counted on following him, but now, he didn't see how that was possible. Grumbling, he looked over at his clock again. 6:23. Where was he? Was he with a girl? Was he getting himself in trouble? Why hadn't he invited Ron?

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he heard the door open again and the muffled movements as Harry climbed back into his bed. A last quick glance at the clock revealed that it was now 9:16 Saturday morning. Scowling in Harry's general direction, Ron fell to sleep.

* * *

Ron awoke groggily at 11:00 the same day. Yawning, he got up and stumbled his way down to the common room. He found Harry chatting merrily with Hermione, looking as lively as ever. How did he do it? He had been up just as late (or early?) as Ron had, if not later. Grumbling, he took a spot in the armchair beside them, looking over the spread the house elves (namely Dobby) had sent them for breakfast. He ate silently as the other two talked about Quidditch, homework, how mean Snape had been this week, and the House Cup.

"You're awfully quiet, Ron," Harry pointed out, looking in his direction for the first time.

Ron scrutinized his appearance; his hair was messy and untamed, but that was nothing unusual, there were no bags underneath his eyes, which were bright and clear, and he seemed genuinely awake. He shrugged once, pointing at his plate of food.

"Hungry," he said shortly.

Harry and Hermione laughed lightly before returning to their conversation.

"Harry, do you still have that detention with Professor Snape tonight?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," he groaned. "Don't remind me. He's apparently been saving cauldrons for me to scrub out for a month."

Hermione grimaced apologetically, but Ron sat up straight, an idea hitting him like a brick. His friends turned to him, eyebrows raised. He relaxed a little, face flushing.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Stomachache."

They nodded their understanding, still looking a little skeptical, but they let it go, returning instead to each other once more.

"When does he want you there?"

"Right after dinner," came the glum answer. "Apparently exploding two of his desks is cause for hours on end in detention; regardless if it was an accident. Bet if it was a Slytherin he would just turn the other cheek."

"At least he didn't take any house points," Hermione said, trying to sound bright.

"Not yet," Harry said, placing his head heavily into his hands.

* * *

That night, Ron walked back to the common room with Hermione, refining his plan.

"Fancy a game of chess?" he asked casually.

"Er- no thanks," she said politely. He had expected her to decline anyway; Hermione was bloody terrible at wizard's chess. "Have you finished your Charms assignment?" she asked, rather pointedly.

He scowled. "No, I've been working on Transfiguration," It came out a touch more defensive than he'd intended. Hermione stopped short, gasping.

"I completely forgot!" she cried, hand to her forehead. "I've got to go!"

She ran off the opposite direction, no doubt to the library to attach her nose to books older than the school itself. It wasn't like Hermione to forget an assignment, but it was just as well. It would only help him.

He climbed through the portrait hole, entering into the din of almost every Gryffindor that wasn't a prefect. Since it was such a cold, rainy night, the common room was packed. Ron sighed, trying to slip up to the boy's dormitory without being noticed.

He had just made it to the staircase, when a sudden impact to the small of his back, right between his shoulder blades, made him turn around.

Dean and Seamus were sitting around the fire, grinning stupidly from behind a set of Exploding Snaps. Ron trudged back, trying to hide his disappointment. He forced a half grin as he sat down.

He endured three games of Exploding Snap, before having to sit through a round of chess with Seamus after Ginny had come in and taken Dean off gallivanting somewhere Ron would rather not know.

Finally, he was left to himself, free to retreat back to his dormitory. He wagered he had about another hour before Harry came back. Just enough time to do what he had to. Pulling open the trunk on the end of his friend's bed, he found the Invisibility Cloak sitting on top. Ruffling through the belongings immediately surrounding the Cloak, he didn't find what he was looking for, which was good; it meant he wasn't using it, which also meant that he wouldn't miss it after Ron took it. Not for a while, anyway. It also meant that he was either not meeting anyone when he went out night after night, or it was pre-determined. Digging deeper through layers of cloaks, unused socks, and even a set of dress robes, his fingers finally came into contact with the familiar parchment. Pulling the Marauder's Map from Harry's trunk, he quickly stuffed it under his pillow, and reassembled the other boy's trunk as close as he could to how it was before. He lay down in bed, head on top of the spot where he had hidden the map, waiting again.

His heart hammered against his rib cage as he heard the other boys clamber into bed, Harry among them. Praying he wouldn't notice anything missing from his trunk, he waited. Finally, at 2:21 in the morning, Harry climbed out of bed and made his way down the staircase.

Giving him a decent head start, Ron grabbed the Map and was on his way, following him down the dark staircase. A whispered _'Lumos'_ illuminated the common room; Harry was gone, Portrait Hole sealed. He clambered awkwardly through it, holding his wand aloft, careful not to drop the Map.

"And where are you going?" the Fat Lady voiced from behind him. He walked on, ignoring her. "Well?" she called after him. He walked faster, praying no one had heard her shouts.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he muttered under his breath, touching the glowing tip of his wand to the blank parchment. The ink spread from the spot where he had touched out to the edges of the paper, until he was looking at a living replica of the walls of the school and the people within.

Finding his own dot, he quickly checked the surrounding halls for teachers, Filch, Mrs. Norris, or prefects. Finding none, he settled in to look for Harry's dot. Invisibility Cloak or not, he couldn't hide from the Marauders; Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs had been cleverer than that, especially since the Cloak had belonged to one of them. He located his dot along the seventh floor, heading no doubt to the Room of Requirement. He followed close behind, but far enough away that should Harry turn to look, the corridor would appear empty. He watched his dot pace in front of the room before turning to the right and advancing toward the seemingly solid wall before disappearing. He swore loudly, and started to run. Just as he reached the door it melted back into the wall. Looking back at the map, he waited for the dot to reappear on the inside of the room. It didn't. The magic of the Come and Go Room obviously hid it from the map. Having no definite size or shape, it was impossible to plot, and the Marauders must not have taken it into account when creating the map.

He slumped against the wall opposite, sliding to the floor behind a tapestry. He would wait it out; he had for many nights before, and now that he had the map, he was not afraid of being caught out of bed after curfew. Leaning his head back on the cool stone of the wall, he sighed. Harry had never left him out of anything before. He felt a pang of betrayal and abandonment. Deciding not to leave himself to the demise of his thoughts, he returned his attention to the map.

Swallowing a gag, he noticed the dots of Lavender Brown and Draco Malfoy together in the dungeons. He could only imagine the reaction of the school to that one. He could see Peeves drifting lazily along the fourth floor, and couldn't help but grin as a dot for Filch came upon him. They sat unmoving for several minutes, and Ron swore he could hear the shouts from where he sat.

Finally, the door in front of him opened, and Harry emerged, Invisibility Cloak tucked under his arm. He smiled over his shoulder once before shutting the door behind him. He leaned back against the wood for a moment, heaving a deep sigh and looking wistful. A touch of red was just visible in his cheeks and neck, and a slight sheen of sweat adorned his body. He smiled indulgently to himself before tucking a potion into his pocket, and flinging the Invisibility Cloak around his body. Ron watched on the map as his dot made its way rather slowly to Gryffindor Tower. He returned his attention to the Room of Requirement as the door opened once more, and Ron sat straighter in anticipation. This was what he had sat here for all night; this was what he had been waiting for.

He could barely stifle a gasp as Snape strode through the door, looking more disheveled than Ron had ever seen. His hair was falling in waves, tangled and unruly about his face; he was fastening the buttons at the neck and cuffs of his shirt, carrying his long cloak. His eyes looked lively and animated, as if he had just been very attentive. He was breathing heavily and the nostrils on his long, hooked nose flared with the effort of calming his rapid heart rate.

Ron choked back bile that rose to his throat and watched as the man retreated swiftly into the darkness in the opposite way of Harry, sauntering down the hallway as if he owned the place. He watched his dot move swiftly down to the dungeons to patrol, not gaining any pleasure from the frantic fleeing of Draco and Lavender. Harry and…Snape? _Snape?_

It wasn't possible. He made his way to the dormitory in a daze. Walking into the room, he found Harry seated on the edge of his bed, removing his shoes. He looked up in surprise. "Ron?"

Ron muttered a half-hearted "Mischief managed," before tossing the map onto the middle of Harry's bed without looking at him. He climbed into bed.

"You better share that Pepper-Up potion in the morning," he stated in a cool monotone before rolling over and falling asleep.

* * *

The next two weeks passed in a blur. Ron went to bed early every night, and actually went to sleep, not wanting to hear if Harry snuck out to see his older lover or not. Harry shifted uncomfortably at meals and in classes when he had been placed next to his freckled friend.

Finally, on Saturday night when the rest of the Gryffindor sixth-years were in Hogsmeade, Harry confronted him.

"You could at least speak to me," he said. "After spying on me."

Ron didn't have a response. He was right, he shouldn't have pried. Harry was entitled to as much privacy as anyone else. But they were best mates. You were supposed to tell your best friend things like this.

"I shouldn't have tailed you," Ron conceded. "But I'm not sorry I did. Seriously, Harry? _Snape?_ " he fumed, looking over at his friend of six years, finally letting his pent up emotions out.

"I know, it's not…."

" _Right?_ _Allowed?_ _Okay?_ " Ron finished his sentence for him.

"Look, Ron, I know it's a shock, but hear me out-"

"Hear you out? No, Harry! You hid this from me. Why should we talk about it now? You obviously don't want anyone to know."

"Well, no, I don't. You won't tell…will you?" he asked apprehensively.

"No, of course not." Ron said. Harry exhaled in relief. "I don't want anyone to know either. I'm ashamed for you," he finished.

Harry stared at him in shock. "You don't mean that."

" _Yes_ , I do."

Harry's eyes filled with tears, and he looked down, trying not to let them spill over.

"If you'd just listen," he started quietly.

"I don't want to," Ron answered coldly.

Harry steeled himself. "I can't believe I ever considered you my best mate."

He stood up and walked calmly over to the staircase, leaving his Invisibility Cloak behind. Ron sat on the bed, the strangest sense of loss pervading him. He grunted angrily. Damn him, he had let his temper get the better of him. He didn't really want to lose Harry; he just had to talk some sense into him. After all, Snape? Of all people, he had to pick _Snape_?

He jumped off the bed and quickly consulted the map. As he suspected, Harry was making his way down to the dungeons, weaving back and forth across the corridors. Racing down the stairs he tried to catch up, wanting desperately to stop him before he got to his destination. He caught up to Harry just as he was heading down the corridor to the Slytherin Common Room. He could hear the sobs that racked through his body, and he kicked himself for not taking a gentler approach. He walked up behind Harry, intent on grabbing his shoulder to turn him around to face him, when he opened a hidden door in the wall. He took a slight step to the side as he watched him open it a crack and poke his head around.

"Severus?" Came the wobbly call, Harry's voice shaking.

A dark figure came to fill the door frame.

"Harry," he breathed out, worry filling the creases in his face as he took in his appearance.

Neither of them seemed to notice Ron, Harry caught up in his despair and Severus too worried about him. Harry let loose a choked sob, and Snape caught the boy in a tight embrace, holding him close to his chest and smoothing his hair.

The intimateness of the hug caught Ron off guard. Picturing the relationship in his head and seeing it in reality were two very different things. It reached him on a deeper level, and in a burst of intuition he rarely experienced, he understood. The dour old Professor really cared for him; they... _loved_ each other. He had been too quick to jump to conclusions, he could see now how much they needed each other; both starved of affection, they had found it within each other. He felt like crawling in a hole and sticking not one, but both feet in his mouth.

He tried to sidle away into the darkness of the corridor, but unfortunately, Snape heard the sole of his foot hitting the ground and his head snapped up from Harry's neck. "You," he growled, never letting go of the wizard encircled in his arms. "This was _you_." The venom in his voice was bone-chilling, and this was the side of the man that Ron was used to seeing; however, that did nothing for his nerves.

He chose to ignore Snape as Harry pulled back and turned his tear-streaked face in his direction.

"I'm sorry, mate. I can see now that I was wrong," he said quietly, not one to enjoy admitting his faults. He hung his head in embarrassment, looking at the worn toes of his tennis shoes.

Harry was silent, analyzing the posture of his friend. "You really mean that," he whispered, astonished.

Ron simply nodded. "I'll….er; I'll just let you…."

He looked up awkwardly, smiling apologetically.

"I'll cover for you in the morning," he offered as a token of peace.

Harry smiled, eyes lighting up once more. "Thanks mate," he said excitedly, as he turned back around and pushed Severus by the chest back into his private quarters.

Ron caught a final glimpse of a heartfelt embrace, and a tender kiss to the lips before the door swung shut and disintegrated back into the walls.

Shaking his head, he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, wondering how he was ever going to get up in the morning without another Pepper-Up potion.


End file.
